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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23917759">Hope Is A Dangerous Thing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletteStar1/pseuds/ScarletteStar1'>ScarletteStar1</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Bedelia in the bath, Drinking, F/M, Hannibal might make a meal of bedelia yet, Hurt/Comfort, Nudity, Overdose, Scopalamine, possible suicide attempt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:00:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>889</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23917759</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletteStar1/pseuds/ScarletteStar1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal finds Bedelia unresponsive. . . has the time come to make a meal of her?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bedelia Du Maurier &amp; Hannibal Lecter, Bedelia Du Maurier/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hope Is A Dangerous Thing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hannibal smelled bourbon on the air, mingling with the jasmine and vanilla Bedelia favored in her bath. Beneath the rich floral oils and woody alcohol, he caught another fragrance as he entered their shared living space.</p><p>A sticky, seductive scent tickled the back of his nasal cavities. Had he not known better, he might have mistaken it for sex.</p><p>But Hannibal did know better.</p><p>It was the smell of death. <em>Or</em>, he thought as he took a deeper breath and shrugged out of his jacket, <em>the smell of an impending death.</em></p><p>He folded his jacket and laid it neatly over the back of a leather chair. The house was quiet and tidy. Nothing seemed amiss. Taking his time, he wandered the spacious rooms, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his top shirt button.</p><p>He found Bedelia in the tub, as the waft of her bath oils indicated. But her glass of bourbon had fallen off the tub’s edge and shattered on the marble floor. “What a mess you’ve made,” he chuckled but Bedelia did not acknowledge him. “How much have you had to drink, Bedelia?” Again, she did not answer.</p><p>He examined her from the doorway, as a museum patron might view a statue. In the enormous tub, she stretched her petite body under steaming water that bobbed gently around the delicate slopes of her breasts. Her arms were thrown over the edges of the tub, holding her up somewhat, and her head was cast down toward the water at a strange angle. His eyes surveyed the rest of the scene and noticed a small glass vial.</p><p>“Oh, Bedelia,” Hannibal sighed and tilted his head. “What have you done now?” She remained unresponsive, but he did not rush forward. He took a long moment to admire the way her neat strip of pubic hair waved ever so slightly in the water, like a lovely sea anemone. He took another moment to note the rosy pucker of her nipples and dusky hue of her areolae against the alabaster of her flesh. He took in how her platinum curls cascaded around her face and had fallen forward to float on the surface of her bath. Such a beautiful piece of art she was indeed.</p><p>When he finally approached her, it was decisive. He stepped around the broken glass and put two fingers to her neck. He felt several places and then pulled her head back to find her eyes closed. Her forehead burned with fever.</p><p>Her pulse was faint as the shadow of a moth in moonlight, but he felt it.</p><p>Sitting back on his feet, he blinked several times as his head bloomed white with jasmine. Six more minutes, he determined. Maybe ten, but not much more. The thought made him lick his lips. Ginger went exceptionally well with jasmine. Oh, he adored ginger sautéed with garlic and clarified butter, but nothing too rich to obscure the meat’s own flavor. . . rice infused with jasmine with a sprig of the flower for a completely hedonistic garnish. To compensate for the garish garnish, he’d pair a wine that was not at all fussy, perhaps a Riesling.</p><p>Glancing at the vial, he scoffed. “You managed to hop out of this one, my little rabbit.”</p><p>He slapped her cheeks and exhaled an annoyed huff. Laying a towel on the floor, well away from the shards of glass, he lifted Bedelia out of the tub and placed her on it. He left her for a moment to retrieve his small medical kit. He measured an amount of medication in a hypodermic syringe and without pause, shot it directly into the large vein in her neck. Once he contented himself she was breathing steadily enough, he massaged the area over her heart to stimulate a more vivacious beat.</p><p>Bedelia woke hours later in bed. Hannibal had dressed her in a simple and comfortable white nightgown.</p><p>“Hello,” Hannibal said with a wry smile.</p><p>Bedelia stared silently at him.</p><p>“Do you feel you are going to be sick?” He asked. She shook her head. “You might yet. There is a basin here if you need it. And I’ve brought some ginger soda. Would you like a sip.”</p><p>Bedelia nodded. He helped her sit and brought an ice filled beverage to her dry lips. He pressed his cheek to her forehead and noted her fever subsided.</p><p>“I’ve given you meclizine.” He said. “You were a fool taking that medication and drinking, not to mention getting into a hot bath. It could have killed you. Or perhaps that is what you hoped?”</p><p>“Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me, Hannibal,” Bedelia said and turned her face toward the window. For a while she seemed to watch the sun filling up the sky as dawn broke. “Why did you save me?”</p><p>“Perhaps I enjoy your company,” Hannibal shrugged.</p><p>“I was so far away,” she whispered. “You could have let me slip off.”</p><p>“Yes. This is true.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you?”</p><p>“As you know, I do not enjoy waste. The scopolamine would have tainted your meat. You would have been a tragic waste.” He took her hand and held it tenderly, brought it to his lips and kissed it. His nostrils flared at the touch of her skin to his face. She still exuded the beguiling mix of jasmine and vanilla.</p>
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